The Week

We don’t have to choose between disarmament and nuclear war. We can have both.

The Democratic Party is indulging in its biennial fit of the vapors, holding itself out as all things to all people while financing its pub-crawl with $2,000-a-plate dinners served to the needy—read: Lee Prussia of the Bank of America, Lee Iacocca of Chrysler, Charlie Brown of AT&T, John Welch of GE, Roger Smith of GM. The big con is that if the Dems win the Senate in ’84 they plan to wrap their fingers around the jugular veins of American business, which, if it still has a wisp of survival instinct, had better go along, at $2,000 for a plate of three-star Michelin baksheesh. Plus ça change. In the plus ça pue department, who’s going to head the ticket? One finds the smart money on one or another of the three royal princes: Ted Kennedy, the éminence grasse; John Glenn, grand voyageur aérien; Walter Mondale, Grand Seigneur de Sauve-qui-peut. Now the weird thing is that while the savvy side of the party is going hot for fiscal sanity and economic incentives, the Royal Line is running backward—to the Henry Wallace springheads, where some of one’s best friends are Commies, and the Federal Government should operate the universe and make the trains run on time.

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We don’t have to choose between disarmament and nuclear war. We can have both.

The Democratic Party is indulging in its biennial fit of the vapors, holding itself out as all things to all people while financing its pub-crawl with $2,000-a-plate dinners served to the needy—read: Lee Prussia of the Bank of America, Lee Iacocca of Chrysler, Charlie Brown of AT&T, John Welch of GE, Roger Smith of GM. The big con is that if the Dems win the Senate in ’84 they plan to wrap their fingers around the jugular veins of American business, which, if it still has a wisp of survival instinct, had better go along, at $2,000 for a plate of three-star Michelin baksheesh. Plus ça change. In the plus ça pue department, who’s going to head the ticket? One finds the smart money on one or another of the three royal princes: Ted Kennedy, the éminence grasse; John Glenn, grand voyageur aérien; Walter Mondale, Grand Seigneur de Sauve-qui-peut. Now the weird thing is that while the savvy side of the party is going hot for fiscal sanity and economic incentives, the Royal Line is running backward—to the Henry Wallace springheads, where some of one’s best friends are Commies, and the Federal Government should operate the universe and make the trains run on time.